I was a 29 year old mother of three who had spent eleven years with my love. I was widowed. This diary begins five years after his death. I hope to capture the memories of this journey. The lessons. The joy. The sadness. The humor. The faith. The hope.

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Monday, July 5, 2010

FIRST ENCOUNTER

Perhaps I should have mentioned that I knew Chris' parents before I knew him. I suppose that would have helped a little. His parents lived about an hour from me. Our mothers served together in an organization through church.

When I was gone that summer, Chris had come home for a bit. My older sister, who was at home that summer, met him. She told me he was a cutie. I think I looked at her like she was crazy - because he was a little old to be 'checking out'.

In October, he had traveled with his mother to church at our congregation. His mother had an early meeting before church, as did mine. I was sitting in the foyer. My sister had anticipated that Chris would be there -but we did not see him when we arrived. After my sister had long since fallen asleep in the chair in the foyer area with mouth wide open, I was lazily laying back also trying to catch some rest that I had been deprived due to this early morning meeting. As I was laying there, I saw someone walk in to the restroom. It was a guy, probably in his twenties. I realized that was probably Chris. Given that I knew my sister thought he was cute, giggling internally, I jumped and woke my sister up in a frenzy, telling her that he was here! I startled her awake, she ran to the bathroom to check her hair, and I settled back in laughing to myself.

As I was sitting there enjoying my little prank of sorts, Chris walked out. I wish I could remember our exchange in that moment, but I don't. Probably because for me that was not a significant moment. He was a guy. Cute, yes. But, short. I'm tall. And he was old. Certainly not someone I would even be looking at in such a way.